Mystique's inner thoughts
by Smokestarrules
Summary: Basically Mystique's thoughts and the cure wearing off of her... Hope you like it!


**A.N. Yes I know I should be working on Queen Diamond's Counterattack, but I just watched the original trilogy of X-Men, and I had an idea for a oneshot! Hope you like!**

"Staring at yourself again, Raven?" Mystique gritted her teeth as not to strike her extremely annoying roommate. Tabitha Rookweed was a tall, kind of dumb-blonde girl. Ugh.

"Tabitha, I've told you to leave me alone."

Mystique snapped, inwardly cringing at the sound of her human voice. Her roommate raised her hands in surrender, but it was obviously sarcastic.

"Alriiiiiiight. Bye, Raven!"

Tabitha left the apartment, and Mystique glared at her reflection, hating her own green eyes and black hair. Sometimes Mystique wished that the government had picked someone that knew who she was to be her roommate, for on worst days Mystique had to struggle not to kill Tabitha.

It would be so easy to flip over her, grasp the blonde's throat with her feet, and snap her neck. It would feel good. It would feel right.

But unfortunately, due to Tabitha's obliviousness, the apartment was full of surveillance. Sometimes Mystique would wave at the hidden cameras.

She glanced at her reflection again, wearing a tight jacket and long blue jeans. Eyes that she did not consider her own stared back. The woman in the reflection was not her, not anymore at least.

Mystique refused to believe that this. . . Raven Darkholme had anything to do with her. All Mystique was doing was imitating Raven's looks. Right.

She hated clothes. They were so scratchy and itchy, always rubbing against her too pale skin in a terrible way. When she was herself Mystique had had no need for them, as they only would get in the way.

Now she had realized that perhaps Magneto wasn't someone worth saving. She'd heard what'd happened, of course. He'd gotten stabbed in the battle with the cure. Idiot.

If he hadn't abandoned her, she would've helped, regardless of how she looked. They may as well would've won the battle.

Ignoring all distractions, Mystique stared at the mirror, not a single emotion crossing her face. She'd never wanted anything in her life, other than perhaps the humans to give the Mutants rights.

Other than that, if she wanted something, she would take it. But what she really wanted right now, was to have her mutation back. Honestly. Mystique would never resort to begging, but she wanted- no, needed it back.

Mystique tilted her head, studying her reflection even more intensely. Was she seeing things, or were her emerald-green eyes seeming brighter? Her gaze flicked to her hair, and was it just her, or were the strands of crow-black lighter, somehow?

Hope flared in her chest, but she pushed it back down angrily. Mystique shook her head to clear her thoughts and stared at the mirror, studying every feature of the woman in the reflection.

She suddenly felt a strange sensation in her wrist, and she looked down to notice with widened eyes, a small patch of skin was turning darker, bluer.

Her gaze snapped back up to the mirror in disbelief, and saw her whole body darken, ridges appear on her skin. Her long, shoulder-length hair turned from jet-black to slicked back bright red.

Her bright green eyes turned bright yellow, and her skin stopped darkening, stopping at a dark blue.

Mystique touched her now blue fingertips to her face, staring at the mirror in disbelief. "My name is Mystique. . . "

She tested her voice, and it was the one that Mystique had used for such a long time.

Relief flooded through her, and she struggled to contain her emotions. She turned from the mirror, and stripped herself, reveling the feel of her blue body without the troublesome clothes.

Wait. What now? She had nothing to return to, nothing to work on.

Her golden eyes narrowed as she heard banging on the door. Of course. She should've known that the moment she began to change, the military officers would be on their way.

She crouched down, ready for them. They burst through, shooting at her with their stupid cure guns. She flipped backwards and dodged, kicking two of them unconscious while doing a split.

She stared at the last ones, feeling her muscles twinge from misuse. She felt good, as she hadn't fought for over three months.

The remaining marines fired at her but she easily dodged the needles, jumping out the open window and landing softly on the ground outside.

They tried to follow her, but she dispatched them rather easily, careful this time to not kill anyone. She'd rather have less angry faces if she were ever captured again.

Mystique walked slowly away, feeling her features melt away into Tabitha Rookweed's face, just for cover.

As she walked through the streets, she realized something. Without Magneto, she was free. She could do anything, anytime she wanted.

But first. She would find Magneto again. And she would kill him, make him regret ever leaving her behind.

He would suffer as he made her.


End file.
